


The Chronicles of Inquisitor Revasan Lavellan

by galadrieljones



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Dalish Background, Banter, Dalish Elves, Dalish Mafia, F/M, Father Figures, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hilarity, Humor, Loving Marriage, Minor Lavellan/Solas, Not Canon Compliant, Not Your Typical Inquisitor, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking, Solas is only 30, Swearing, The Lavellans, Young Solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 03:46:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14096517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galadrieljones/pseuds/galadrieljones
Summary: Revasan Lavellan is 38 years old when he survives the Conclave—a farmer, elven researcher, ruin-diver, as well as a loud mouth, hard-smoking, hard-drinking, highly intelligent 6'2" smart-ass with a staunch code of compassion hidden beneath a blustery, even chaotic exterior. As the oldest living heir of the prominent Lavellan family, Revasan sits at the top of a wealthy, massive Dalish clan. His experience as the head of his family makes him, to the shock of almost everyone, one hell of a leader inside the Inquisition, full of surprises that thwart his allies and opponents alike.But Revasan is also a family man. He loves his wife with a brutal ferocity, and his daughter as well. Further, a fellow traveler and intellectual, Solas quickly becomes his best friend and confidant...and perhaps, one day, if all goes well, his son-in-law? At the end of the day, where this journey will take him, we only partially know, as seemingly nothing can contain Revasan and his innovative theatrics—not even canon.





	1. Welcome to the Fucking Show

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written in a banter/dialogue style. There are extended tags and descriptions of scene, setting, actions, and mood interspersed, especially as things progress. The first chapter is very short, but they become progressively longer and more detailed.
> 
> Revasan Lavellan is the father of my main Lavellan, Sene. This story was inspired by the question: "What would happen if Sene's crazy asshole father was sent to the Conclave instead of her?" It follows a legitimate playthrough but is not in anyway guaranteed to be 100% faithful to canon or script.

**Revasan Lavellan:  
**

****

_L o L - Storming the Rift._

> _*Everyone is very angry. The world seems very loud. On the bridge, as Cassandra pushes past the clerics.*  
> _
> 
> Roderick: On your head be the consequences, Seeker!
> 
> Revasan: [laughs, polishing his sword, give zero fucks] Who the fuck is this ponce? Nice hat, ponce. Are you serious?

 

_Old Friends! - Back at Haven  
_

> _*At Varric's camp. Revasan and Varric are old friends. The Lavellans frequently work with families in the Merchant's Guild to help coordinate the distribution of their product. Revasan has always preferred to work with the Tethras family almost exclusively.*_

> Revasan: Varric! Old boy. How the fuck are you?
> 
> Varric: Revasan Lavellan. I should ask you the same. Does your Keeper approve of your extended detention down here in Human Land?
> 
> Revasan: [laughs] Probably not. Then again, having a Lavellan at the top of some new fucked up religious organization in the south can’t possibly be bad for business. Anyway, this shit is weird. Where the fuck are the drugs?
> 
> Varric: [sighs]

 

_Yikes. - First Night in Haven._

> Varric: [at the tavern] Do you have any idea who this guy is, Cassandra?
> 
> Cassandra: The elf? Of course not….why?
> 
> Varric: That is the heir to the richest clan of Dalish elves this civilization has ever seen.
> 
> Cassandra: Rich Dalish elves?
> 
> Varric: He’s the smartest elf in Thedas, but a fucking psychopath. I hear he used to dive ruins for kicks. He’s probably killed more demons than all of us combined.
> 
> Cassandra: [concerned, watching Revasan from across the bar—he’s terribly handsome, and lighting his bourbon on fire to impress the soldiers] Well then, let us hope he comes in handy.

 

_First Meeting with Solas - Next Day, in Haven._

> _*The wind is chilly, coming down from the mountains.*_
> 
> Revasan: It's fucking cold. Tell me about yourself.
> 
> Solas: [does Fade poetry]
> 
> Revasan: [lights a joint] My gods. You’re a fucking psychopath, just like me. Do go on.

 

_Fffffffff - Same Conversation, still in Haven._

> Solas: When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen.
> 
> Revasan: [smoking, incredulous] A Dreamer? Are you fucking shitting me?
> 
> Solas: I am not.
> 
> Revasan: What the fuck are you, an ancient elf?
> 
> Solas: [sweats] Do not be silly.

 

_Do you even ruin-dive, bro? - Same Conversation, still in Haven_

> Revasan: You take naps in ancient ruins?
> 
> Solas: On occasion. I do set wards. And I’ve learned that if you leave out food for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live.
> 
> Revasan: Giant spiders? What about giant demons?
> 
> Solas: Excuse me?
> 
> Revasan: I’ve taken naps in ancient ruins, too, my friend, and I’ve been woken up by a lot worse than some fucking arachnids. Usually it would be my brother, drunk on absinthe and hallucinating. But sometimes, it was demons. Fucking disgusting abominations if you ask me.
> 
> Solas: [w t f ?] Well then.

 

_Well, shit. - War Room Introductions._

> Josie: The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition—and you, specifically.
> 
> Revasan: [laughs] Fuck the Chantry.
> 
> Cullen: Excuse me?
> 
> Revasan: You heard me.
> 
> Cullen: Last time I heard someone say that, things got very…weird.
> 
> Revasan: [produces a joint from his pocket] Yes, well, hold onto your frilly fucking coat, Commander Cullen, because they’re about to get a whole lot weirder. Now, does anybody have a light?


	2. The Plot Thickens (ish)

_A trail of dead bodies to the Crossroads. - The Hinterlands_

> Revasan: [crouches over the corpse of a young Templar] Oh, fucking bollocks.
> 
> Varric: [concerned] I know you’ve killed a lot of demons, Rev, but you ever killed a person? It’s a whole different sport.
> 
> Solas: I am wondering that as well.
> 
> Revasan: [straightening the dead boy’s collar] I’ve killed men, yes. Bandits, outright. A great many, in fact. But bandits are worthless specimens. They fight for themselves and nothing more. These are men and women who fight for a cause. [grows pensive]
> 
> Cassandra: Are you disturbed, Revasan?
> 
> Revasan: [collects himself, stands, soldiers forth] No.
> 
> Revasan: [does not speak or smoke for twenty straight minutes]

 

_Meeting Between Two Equals. - The Hinterlands, camping at the farm_

> Revasan: That rift at the river over there, it’s diabolical. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the gods put it there just to fuck with us.
> 
> Solas: I’ve read up on you, Revasan, your accomplishments, your research. You are rather prestigious in your line of work.
> 
> Revasan: Your point?
> 
> Solas: I wasn’t sure you actually believed in the elven pantheon.
> 
> Revasan: I believe all sorts of weird shit, Solas. I believe in the Maker. I believe a pantheon can mean many things.
> 
> Solas: Interesting.
> 
> Revasan: Gods rise and fall. They declare their godhood. They are defined by those who worship at their feet. That is all the Andrastians believe. Their god rose up, called to another, who carried his word to the people of the earth. They followed. Hence, the legend of Andraste. The elven gods are elusive, and my research is conflicting. I can’t tell if they were actually gods or just the rich, slave-driving nobility of their time.
> 
> Solas: [takes off his gloves, tosses them to the earth] Hmm.
> 
> Revasan: You all right, friend?
> 
> Solas: Of course. But pardon my curiosity—you speak ancient elven?
> 
> Revasan: A great deal. Don’t you?
> 
> Solas: Indeed. Grab the whiskey. We have much to discuss.

 

_Headstrong. - Back at Haven_

> _*As Cullen's soldiers swirl and spar all around them.*  
>  _
> 
> Cassandra: I see what must be done, and I do it. I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail.
> 
> Revasan: Ha! You remind me of my daughter.
> 
> Cassandra:  Your daughter?
> 
> Revasan: Yes. She’s nineteen. She does what she thinks is right. She never hems or haws. It is at once both terrifying and yet reassuring—that I made her that way. Of course it’s hubris to take the blame. But I know where she gets it. I understand you, Cassandra.
> 
> Cassandra: I—that is—thank you. I would like to meet her, someday. And your wife. What are their names?
> 
> Revasan: My wife is Rasha. My daughter is Sene. They both have great big red hair. It’s wonderful. Anyway, I plan to send for them as soon as I can ensure that the way is safe.
> 
> Cassandra: That is good to know.

 

_L o L, Pt. 2. - Haven, cont’d_

> Roderick: [blabs]
> 
> Revasan: Look! Ah, Commander Cullen. Look who it is. Our ponce friend again, in his funny hat. Commander Cullen, remind me why he’s here.
> 
> Roderick: Clearly your Templar knows where to draw the line.
> 
> Cullen: He’s toothless. There’s no point turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth.
> 
> Revasan: [claps Cullen on the shoulder] I like you, Commander. A lot. Let’s lose this asshole and get a drink.
> 
> Cullen: [shocked] I—uh—yes. That would be fine. I could use a break anyway.
> 
> Revasan: Good. [turns to Roderick] You are not invited. Go…pray or something.

 

_The Grey Warden. - Back to the ~~fucking~~ Hinterlands_

> Blackwall: You’re no farmer.
> 
> Revasan: [smokes] Actually—ah, fuck it. Nevermind.

 

_The Grey Warden. - The Hinterlands, cont’d_

> Revasan: You fight well. There’s a poise in you that I recognize—that of a Chevalier, I presume?
> 
> Blackwall: What? [sweats] I’m a Warden. That’s all you need to know.
> 
> Revasan: [studies him] Hmm. My mistake.
> 
> Blackwall: How would you know the chevalier style anyway, elf? No offense, of course.
> 
> Revasan: None taken. But my clan is very rich and very important, you see. I was trained in the sword by ex-chevaliers when I was a boy. It was secondhand, but it did the trick.
> 
> Blackwall: [perplexed] That is…unexpected.
> 
> Revasan: Yeah. No shit.

 

_The Grey Warden. - The Hinterlands, cont'd  
_

> Revasan: The Inquisition needs help, sure, but what can one fucking Grey Warden do?
> 
> Blackwall: Save the fucking world, if pressed.
> 
> Revasan: [ponders] Hmm. Well. That is fact, actually, Warden Blackwall.
> 
> Blackwall: Am I in?
> 
> Revasan: [shakes his hand] Abso-fucking-lutely. Welcome to the Inquisition. I extend to you a cordial invitation to Haven. The booze is mediocre, and the snow is fucking freezing, but the people are warm, and everybody’s having a great time so far.


	3. Meeting with Alexius at the Gull and Fucking Lantern

_Who is this fucking schmuck? - Redcliffe, the Gull and Lantern_

> Alexius: The Southern Mages are under my command. And you are the survivor, yes? The one from the Fade? Interesting.
> 
> Revasan: [staring, just staring] What the fuck is with all the funny hats in this place?
> 
> Solas: [sighs]
> 
> Alexius: Hats?
> 
> Revasan: I suppose this one is more of a hood, but—seriously. Are those ears? Is that like, a cat costume? A three-eared cat? Is that what you lot go on about in Tevinter?
> 
> Alexius: [to Cassandra] Who is this person? The stories cast him as a savior. Though I believe he has lost his mind.
> 
> Cassandra: [straightens up] I–Magister, I assure you–
> 
> Revasan: Nevermind. [holds out his hand] I’m just talking to myself.
> 
> Alexius: [shakes Revasan’s hand] An eccentric! Very good.
> 
> Revasan: Yes, an eccentric. That’s me. And, to answer your question from before, yes. I am the fabled Herald of Andraste. My name is Revasan Lavellan. I survived the explosion at the Conclave with bells on. I am here on behalf of the Inquisition to discuss the dire situation at hand.
> 
> Alexius: The dire situation at hand?
> 
> Revasan: Yes. The fucking dire situation at hand.
> 
> Alexius: And…which dire situation would that be?
> 
> Revasan: [incredulous, they’re still shaking hands] Are you serious?
> 
> Alexius: I believe so.
> 
> Revasan: Huge fucking rip in the sky? Demons pouring out of it? Have you been asleep? Curled up on your mat? It’s the fucking apocalypse, brother.
> 
> Alexius: [laughs, finally breaks the handshake] You do have a vivid imagination, Herald Revasan. An imagination that, I imagine, especially as an elf of the Dalish culture, might get you into trouble now and again, am I right?
> 
> Revasan: [squints, cracks his knuckles] You’re not wrong.
> 
> Alexius: [chuckles smugly] An eccentric and a jokester. I like you.
> 
> Revasan: [smiles good and genuine] Well, I suppose that’s a good thing.
> 
> Alexius: Indeed.
> 
> Revasan: You’re in charge here, yes, Magister Alexius? You are in command?
> 
> Alexius: That, I am.
> 
> Revasan: Good. Then, let’s talk. You and me. Man to man. Surely we might come to…some arrangement, per your mages?
> 
> Alexius: I like arrangements, Revasan. I like them very much.
> 
> Revasan: As do I. We all have needs. We all require…resources. The Inquisition is rife with resources, Magister Alexius. Resources that could really make your rebellion…sing.
> 
> Cassandra: [suddenly concerned] If I may—
> 
> Revasan: [holds out his hand, stops her in her tracks]
> 
> Cassandra: [bites her tongue]
> 
> Revasan: As I was saying. Perhaps, Magister Alexius, [hands in his pockets] there is a deal to be struck. It will, however, require some modicum of your cooperation, at least for the moment. What do you say?
> 
> Alexius: [smiles, very knowing] I always do appreciate a good and reasonable man, Revasan, even one as…eccentric as yourself. I am not so typical, after all. Me and my…hat. [crinkly-eyed smile] Who am I to criticize? Come along, come along, Herald of Andraste. [beckons for them to follow into the other room] We have much to discuss.
> 
> Revasan: [to Cassandra, as they follow, whispers] I’m sorry for that, Cassandra, but you have to understand that if there is anyone who knows how to deal with a schmuck of this magnitude, it is me.
> 
> Cassandra: [sighs] I hope you’re right.
> 
> Revasan: I am.
> 
> Solas: [follows behind them, smirks, looks around] Where is Sera?
> 
> Revasan: I’m not sure.
> 
> Sera: [downstairs, at the bar] BLOODY CHEERS TO THE ELFY! AND ALL OF HIS GREAT BIG–[falls off chair]

 

  _Felix’s Note - The Gull and Lantern, cont’d_

> Revasan: [reads Felix’s note] Come to the Chantry. You’re in danger. [looks up] Yeah. No fucking shit. Who is this guy?
> 
> Sera: [bleary-eyed] Looks weird. Bad skin.
> 
> Revasan: Are you drunk?
> 
> Sera: What’s it to you, elven man?
> 
> Revasan: [folds up the note, sticks it in his pocket] Nothing. I’m simply jealous.

 

_Random Encounters in the Bar - The Gull and Lantern, cont’d_

> Talwyn (random dude at the bar): Inquisition, huh? I wish to holy Andraste you’d gotten here sooner!
> 
> Revasan: [lights a joint] Oh boy, I’m sorry, bloke. [smokes] Didn’t mean to keep you waiting. [smokes] Just been getting my ass beat senseless day in and day out, trying to get to you. [smokes] Now, kindly inform me [smokes] of WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE. [walks away]
> 
> Sera: ELFEN MAN AND HIS GREAT BIG–[falls off chair]
> 
> Cassandra: [disgusted noise, at the bar]
> 
> Solas: [seated beside her, hands folded in front of him] Never once would I have thought that I’d be the quiet elf, standing in the back of our arrangement. Our merry little band is…unexpected, to say the least.
> 
> Cassandra: I don’t like this, Solas. This meeting in the Chantry. Revasan is a confident man, but a Tevinter Magister–that is not what I expected to encounter here today. What do you think?
> 
> Solas: [watches Revasan from across the bar as he leans in real close, smoking and speaking seriously now with a tranquil mage in the corner, paying him true attention] We should trust him, Cassandra. [drinks] He is smart, and he is full of compassion where the world needs it most. He is not the most diplomatic man I have ever met, but I am certain that he knows what to do.
> 
> Cassandra: [takes a long hard drink of something from her glass, sets it down hard on the bar] I agree.


	4. The Iron Bull, Feelings, Big Dicks, and Diplomacy™

_Sad Reveals with Blackwall - Haven, outside the smithy_

> Blackwall: I was from the Free Marches originally. Markham.
> 
> Revasan: Markham! I’ve been there many times. The Lavellans—my clan—we have several scholars at the university there. They do excellent research in horticulture.
> 
> Blackwall: Horticulture. What sort?
> 
> Revasan: Mostly grapes. My family—the blood Lavellans—we’re all grain liquor. Corn and wheat, the distillery. The vintners we absorbed from another clan. They came to us through marriage.
> 
> Blackwall: Your wife?
> 
> Revasan: No. My brother’s wife. She is the vintner’s daughter. Her name is Yara. Hers are mountain people. Big fuckers. They just fucking eat grapes all day long. Their fingers are stained permanently fucking purple.
> 
> Blackwall: What about your wife? That is a ring on your finger, is it not?
> 
> Revasan: Indeed it is. But my wife was a simple huntress when I met her. She didn’t know gin from whiskey.
> 
> Blackwall: Does her clan run in the wild yet then?
> 
> Revasan: [glances up to the Breach–it is a cold thing, sucking up there in the sky] They did. They were migratory. A small clan of twelve or so.
> 
> Blackwall: They _were_ migratory?
> 
> Revasan: They all died in the Fifth Blight. [cracks his knuckles]
> 
> Blackwall: [speechless] I—shit. That is difficult times, Revasan. I am sorry to hear that.
> 
> Revasan: Thank you. [earnest, eager to change the subject] My wife—she is strong. She does her best, and she tolerates me. She would like you, you know.
> 
> Blackwall: Why is that?
> 
> Revasan: She trusts Wardens. I don’t, you see. That is one of very few ways in which we differ. I like you, Warden Blackwall, but I don’t like your order. My wife does, and I understand why. In any case, she also trusts men with beards.
> 
> Blackwall: [smiles]

 

_Male Bonding - The Storm Coast_

> _*At camp, after discovering the dead soldiers at the top of the hill. It's starting to rain.*_
> 
> Revasan: [camping, drinking, huddled at the fire] Solas.
> 
> Solas: [beside him] Yes.
> 
> Revasan: I’m a little drunk, and it’s been a long day. I consider you a friend. May I be frank?
> 
> Solas: [drinks] Of course.
> 
> Revasan: I’ve been here for—six weeks? Maybe two months. I don’t typically count the days, if you know what I mean. Sort of dreadful.
> 
> Solas: I understand that better than you may think.
> 
> Revasan: I miss my wife. [studies the ring on his hand] I miss her. I know I sound like a foolish ponce, but it’s true. I used to be away from her for weeks at a time, when I was a much younger man. Weeks. But it wasn’t like this. [takes a drink, looks up]
> 
> Solas: That is normal, Revasan. Even beautiful. You’re not a ponce. I envy you.
> 
> Revasan: Do you have anyone—anyone that you miss, Solas? I know so little of your past. I’m just wondering.
> 
> Solas: [pensive, stares deep into his whiskey by the light of the fire] That is a difficult question.
> 
> Revasan: [senses Solas’s darkness as the moon cuts through the clouds overhead] You don’t have to tell me, Solas. But you can. You can trust me.
> 
> Solas: I’d like to tell you more. [drinks] Someday, friend. I promise. But this sort of weather and this sort of place makes me weary. Good people died today. Tonight is not the night.
> 
> Revasan: [smiles] Very good.

 

_First Meeting with the Iron Bull - Storm Coast, cont’d_

> Iron Bull: [in the pouring fucking rain] Is that a fucking grapple hook, elf?
> 
> Revasan: Yes it fucking is.
> 
> Iron Bull: Did you just fucking grapple hook that motherfucker, yank his ass to you, and then fucking put him in the dirt with your boot?
> 
> Revasan: Yes I fucking did.
> 
> Iron Bull: [just fucking broing down hard in the rain] Well grab a fucking seat, my friend. Drinks are fucking coming, and I am all in on a big elf like you with a fucking grapple hook.
> 
> Revasan: [sheathes his sword, smirks] As you should be, Iron Bull.

 

_[Disgusted Noise] - Storm Coast, cont’d_

> _*Meanwhile...*_
> 
> Cassandra: [disgusted noise, to Solas] Grapple hooks. Nonsense. And needlessly dangerous. I have told him time and again.
> 
> Solas: And yet, he favors it. I wonder why?
> 
> Sera: Boink.
> 
> Cassandra: Excuse me?
> 
> Sera: Lady Cassandra, come on! Gonna kiss him already. Men like their chains big and long. You _know_ this. Am I right, Solas? Only with you, it’s _staffs._ [snorts]
> 
> Solas: [being Solas] The Veil is thin here, Sera. Can you feel it?
> 
> Sera: What? Change the subject much. We were talking dicks. Not _Veil thingies._
> 
> Solas: Can you feel it in your ear lobes? Can you feel it in your eyeballs?
> 
> Sera: In my bloody ear balls?
> 
> Solas: [smirks]
> 
> Revasan: [through the rain, from over there] Hey, crew. Get the fuck over here. We’re negotiating, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about.
> 
> Cassandra: [sighs profoundly] Andraste bless my Maker-forsaken soul.
> 
> Solas: [still smirking] And then some, I imagine.

 

_The Elven Man with his Great Big Something - Storm Coast, cont’d_

> Revasan: [drinks] You’re a fucking spy, and you’re just telling me about it? To my fucking face?
> 
> Iron Bull: Yep.
> 
> Revasan: Balls of steel, my friend. [holds up his glass] You’re in.

 

_Weird Religion - Back at Haven (Leliana's tent)_

> Leliana: You probably don’t even worship the Maker.
> 
> Revasan: Worship is boring, Lady Nightingale. With all due respect, of course. When it comes to gods, I prefer interrogation.
> 
> Leliana: Interrogation? To what end?
> 
> Revasan: [thinks real hard] That is a good fucking question. Can I get back to you when I get some stronger drugs?

 

_No Underdog - Haven, cont’d_

> _*In a dark corner of the Chantry.*_
> 
> Vivienne: [sipping from an impressive snifter of brandy] Tell me, my dear. Why were you at the Divine Conclave?
> 
> Revasan: You want the truth?
> 
> Vivienne: Always.
> 
> Revasan: My clan is looking to buy a great deal of crop land in Highever, Madame de Fer, but the civil war is troubling. There were concerns that property values would drop irreversibly, especially after what happened in Kirkwall. Hence, our interest. Hence, my presence.
> 
> Vivienne: Interesting. You know, I have heard of your clan, Master Lavellan. That you have a small Templar rotation, posted to your compound. Is that true?
> 
> Revasan: Indeed it is. You know why, I presume.
> 
> Vivienne: A lot of money, a lot of land, but no mages.
> 
> Revasan: [lights a joint] Right you are. The Lavellans are the biggest, richest elves in all Thedas, and not a mage among us. After the Kirkwall Rebellion, we negotiated a fucking Templar Guard off the fucking Chantry, for all our influence in the Marches. We’re liquor distributors, Madame de Fer. Without us, Dalish fucking elves, the Chantry would have no wine—no blood of the holy to partake in their…communion with the savior of their souls. And their worshipers would have no vice on which to take out the brunt of their unanswered prayers. That’s enough to make any sane man question his god. [smokes] Oh, the irony. It is a good business, being a booze elf. Keeping the good Andrastians of the Free Marches happy in their pews. I wonder if these people of Ferelden even know who they’re dealing with, let alone those of Orlais. They’ll underestimate me right up until their own demise. That’s why we need you, Madame de Fer. Because we need Orlais. We need them to chill the fuck out with this civil war bullshit. We need them to trust me. Can you make them do that?
> 
> Vivienne: [goes to the crystal decanter on the table, refills her snifter, swirls it around, studies the color of the liquor, sips judiciously] I believe I can.
> 
> Revasan: Very good.
> 
> Vivienne: But not on my own. [straightens up, smiles into her brandy, knowing] Follow me, my dear. You are a very smart man in my estimation, and we are not as different as perhaps I would have wagered.
> 
> Revasan: I tend to agree.
> 
> Vivienne: There is much to discuss.

 

 _Rumor Mill - Haven, cont’d (Josie's office)_ ****

> Josephine: [at her desk] Stories of “wild Dalish elves” have grown even more outrageous as people learn of you. I find them…repulsive, to say the least. But what I think matters little in the landscape of your particular reign.
> 
> Revasan: [smirks] I’m happy to change their minds, Josephine, if it makes your life easier. Granted, given my reputation, and my tendency to piss people off, I may not be the best influence.
> 
> Josephine: Then who do you suggest?
> 
> Revasan: My wife. And my daughter. My Keeper as well, though he is an old charmer and he’ll never leave the Free Marches when there is war about and I’m not there to take his place. But Rasha and Sene will be on their way here within the week. I believe they could do good work, as…ambassadors. If you will. They’re patient, and they’re strong. Sene is only a little rude. My wife isn’t rude at all. Plus, they’re both much prettier than I am, I assure you.
> 
> Josephine: [blushes] Well, I—I look forward to making their acquaintance. And putting these foolish rumors to an end.


	5. In Hushed Whispers (Aka, WHAT THE FUCK, TEVINTER.)

_Interruptions (????) - Haven (strategizing in the War Room)_

> Cullen: It could work, but it’s a huge risk.
> 
> Dorian: [storms in] Fortunately! You’ll have help.
> 
> Revasan: [coughs up a huge lungful of smoke] Blimey fuck. By the Dread Wolf’s fucking asshole. What the fuck is going on?
> 
> Dorian: [studies him] Are you high?
> 
> Revasan: Usually. It’s like a state of mind.
> 
> Dorian: [smirks] Very good.
> 
> Cassandra: _Good?_
> 
> Dorian: What I am about to propose to you all will require…a great deal of creative thinking. Now, do you have anymore of that?
> 
> Cullen: Excuse me, but who is this man?
> 
> Revasan: This man! I love this man. [looks at Dorian] What’s your name again?

 

_Not Too Elfy - Redcliffe Castle_

> _*Shows up at Redcliffe Castle with Solas and Sera like the fuckin big-and-tall elf brigade*_
> 
> Revasan: I’ll never understand why human nobility still insists on living inside such dredged up, shit affairs.
> 
> Solas: You don’t like castles?
> 
> Revasan: I fucking love castles. But this castle smells like shit.
> 
> Sera: [laughs] Sometimes, Herald thingy, I wish you were a girl. And younger. Hng.
> 
> Revasan: What the fuck? Are you saying I’m old?
> 
> Sera: It’s more the man bits that concern me. And the whole…married thing. Blech. Makes you seem old.
> 
> Revasan: [smiles] You and my daughter will be fast friends.
> 
> Sera: Is she like you?
> 
> Revasan: A little.
> 
> Solas: When will your wife and daughter be arriving at Haven, Revasan?
> 
> Revasan: I have no idea. But soon. Very soon.

 

_Fuck off, usurper. - Redcliffe Castle, cont’d._

> Alexius: The Inquisition needs mages, and I have them. What will you offer me in exchange?
> 
> Revasan: [laughs] Nothing.
> 
> Alexius: [perplexed] Excuse me?
> 
> Revasan: [antes up] You heard me. Fucking Mythal’s tits. We’ve already been through this, and I’m done prancing. People think I’m psychotic? Look at you. On a Fereldan’s throne, claiming sole dominion over a land that hates you, at best. You have no place here. You nor your little cult of…fucking weirdos…in weird hats. So hear me when I say, Alexius: I am going to take your mages, I am going to free the tits out of them, and then I am going to leave.

 

_That First True WTF Moment - Redclffe Castle, cont’d_

> Revasan: Your men are dead, Alexius.
> 
> Alexius: You are a mistake. You never should have existed!
> 
> _*TIME TRAVEL OCCURS*_
> 
> Revasan: [cuts down like four Venatori, is completely out of breath and bleeding from the side of the face in a flooded jail cell one year in the future] WHAT THE FUCK, TEVINTER.
> 
> Dorian: Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!
> 
> Revasan: [spits, slams his sword against the wall] WHAT THE FUCK, TEVINTER.

 

_Psychoanalysis - Redcliffe Castle, cont’d_

> Dorian: We didn’t so much travel through time as we did poke a hole in it and toss it to the privy. But don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll protect you.
> 
> Revasan: [starts laughing, lights a joint–his last one] You’re going to protect me? Oh, goodie. I’ll just stick my ass in a sling and donate my dragon sword here to charity. [smokes, squares him up] Who do you think I am? A fucking stable boy? I’ve got two inches on you and at least fifteen pounds and ten years, and I may not be able to shoot lightning bolts out my fucking fingertips, but I do not fuck around.
> 
> Dorian: My, my. Somebody needs anger management. I was only joking.
> 
> Revasan: Yeah, I do need anger management. Thank you. We have traveled through _time._ My brain is on drugs. I need anger management. Now let’s get the fuck out of here, because my boots are fucking soaked, and I’m fucking bleeding from the head.
> 
> Dorian: [smirks profoundly]

 

_The Mage Mentality - Redcliffe Castle, cont’d_

> Revasan: Blood magic! Splendid. What is it with you northern mages, Tevinter? You have to turn the whole world into your own personal pot to shit in?
> 
> Dorian: [studying the tip of his staff, entirely unmoved] Actually, yes, you’re exactly right, which is why I am here with you, not wearing a cat hood with our friend Alexius, doing the bidding of a mystery god trying to end the world.
> 
> Revasan: [pensive] Who told you about the cat thing?
> 
> Dorian: Solas, on the way here. Cheeky fellow. Stoic. Questionable fashion choices. But he likes you.
> 
> Revasan: Fucking Solas. [gets serious, looks around, realizes what has just happened, and that Solas is not there] I am fucking concerned, my friend. [hands on his hips] I am fucking mighty concerned.

 

_You Don’t Know What You’ve Got - Redcliffe Castle, cont’d_

> Solas: Is someone there?
> 
> Revasan: [shocked] Solas? [approaches the cell] Friend, old mate? Is that you? What the fuck?

 

_No Bees - Redcliffe Castle, cont’d_

> Dorian: Alexius used time magic!
> 
> Sera: Talk sense, or shut it! I can’t think about him!
> 
> Revasan: [takes hold of the bars, places his forehead against them] I’m with you, Sera.
> 
> Sera: Can’t be you. Can’t. Be. You.
> 
> Revasan: [rattles the bars] I fucking understand your fear in my guts, Sera. It’s okay. Do you see me? Psychotic elven man with great big balls? It’s just me. I’m not a demon. I’m your friend.
> 
> Sera: Are you—are you sure?
> 
> Revasan: [smiles, very blue-eyed] Yes, I am.
> 
> Sera: [crying] The day you died, I ran out of arrows making them pay.
> 
> Revasan: Yes, well. That’s my girl.

 

_A Man With Something to Lose - Redcliffe Castle, cont’d_

> Leliana: I suffered. The whole world suffered.
> 
> Revasan: [loses his composure, flexes his jaw]
> 
> Dorian: [places his hand on his shoulder] Rev, are you all right?
> 
> Revasan: [is consumed with fear upon realizing that whatever this world is, his wife and daughter are stuck, suffering inside it] I need to get us out of here, Dorian. We need to fix this. Now.

 

_Until It’s Gone - Redcliffe Castle, cont’d_

> _*Upon collecting the final Red Lyrium Shard*_
> 
> Revasan: [bleeding from the other side of the head now, on his hands and knees, retching, sword discarded at his side]
> 
> Solas: [gets down on one knee] Drink this, my friend. [hands him a potion]
> 
> Revasan: [swallows the entire thing in one gulp without thinking] Fucking fuck. _Fuck._
> 
> Solas: [puts his hand on Revasan’s shoulder, steadies him] Calm yourself. You’ll get back to them.
> 
> Revasan: [closes his eyes, shakes out his head, says nothing]

 

_??? - Redcliffe Castle, cont’d_

> Revasan: [pops back through time, picks Alexius up by the throat, puts him flat on his back] You motherfucker.

 

_Here We Go - Back at Haven_

> Cullen: What were you thinking, turning mages loose with no oversight? The Veil is torn open!
> 
> Revasan: Keep your pants on, Commander Cullen. [smokes] I’m just as fucking freaked out as you are—probably more, by the way, considering the fact that, you know, I fucking endured TIME TRAVEL. In any case, we have to give these blokes a fucking chance. I’m not indenturing anybody. They want to leave, they can bloody well leave, but if they want to stay, then they are as much a part of this as you or I, and we are going to close that fucking rip in the fucking sky and get on with this shit. [leans in, over the table] I am no military man, Commander. But I know how to lead. Wards are no good to us now. [smokes] A successful organization _needs allies_ if it is to succeed. Willing, strategic allies. Even if those allies are…unsavory. Am I wrong?
> 
> Cullen: No, you’re not wrong.
> 
> Revasan: There is nothing less savory than war, Commander. You above all people must know this. So try to understand what it is that I’m saying.
> 
> Cullen: [exasperated] I just—Maker’s Breath. I understand, but this situation is extraordinary.
> 
> Revasan: No shit.
> 
> Scout: [enters, assertive, scroll in hand]
> 
> Cullen: Can we help you?
> 
> Scout: [to Revasan] Your Worship.
> 
> Revasan: [hands on his hips, tosses the joint] You’re _what?_ What do I look like to you? A fucking god? How can I fucking help you?
> 
> Scout: [embarrassed] I apologize, your—er—Master Lavellan, but your wife and daughter have just arrived. From the Free Marches, ser. They wait at the gate.
> 
> Revasan: [crushed, pushes past him, leaves the war room immediately, door slams in his wake]
> 
> Cullen: Where is he—?
> 
> Cassandra: [leans forward on the table, pressing hard against her palms] Give him his leave, Commander. He has earned this.
> 
> Cullen: [withdraws, resigned, sighs and settles his elbow on the hilt of his sword] Of course.


	6. A Family Man (Aka, Very Fucking Subtle Dad™)

_At the gate. - Haven_ **  
**

> Revasan: [clutching his wife so tightly amidst the onlookers that her toes leave the earth] I’m okay. It’s okay. [snow falls] It’s all okay.
> 
> Rasha: [her curly red hair lost on the wind] Fuck.
> 
> _*Sene, Revasan’s daughter, stands by near the soldiers at the gate, tall and lean, with her arms held tightly across her body. She has bright red curly hair and lots of freckles, just like her mother. She allows her parents their private moment. At some point, Rev reaches out and grabs her by the collar and yanks her in as well.*_
> 
> Sene: [gives in, reluctantly]
> 
> Revasan: [spits a bit of red hair out of his mouth] Thank the gods you’re both here. I’ve been desperately bored.
> 
> Sene: [reluctantly, blushes] I’m glad you’re not dead.
> 
> Revasan: [laughs] Me, too, vhenan.
> 
> Rasha: [laughs, cries]
> 
> _Revasan, with his arms slung tightly around them both, immediately heads toward the Chantry._

 

_More Introductions in the War Room - Haven, cont’d_

> Revasan: Josie, Cullen, Leliana, Cassandra, I would like you to meet my wife, Rasha, and my daughter Sene.
> 
> _*All nod kindly, with their hands clasped demurely in front of them.*_
> 
> Rasha: [a ball of unbridled emotion, lurches forward and hugs Cassandra with no warning]
> 
> Cassandra: [surprised, slowly hugs her back, the room is warm] Why--I--it is good to meet you, Lady Lavellan.
> 
> Rasha: Thank you. So much.
> 
> Cassandra: Thank you? For what?
> 
> Rasha: [they part] Thank you for saving my husband. After the Conclave.
> 
> Revasan: [suddenly offended] What? Nobody saved me, vhenan.
> 
> Cassandra: [ignoring him] I see. I will admit that I was there in the aftermath, but I am afraid I cannot take that credit, Rasha.
> 
> Revasan: Hello? Am I invisible?
> 
> Rasha: You can’t?
> 
> Cassandra: [shakes her head] If anyone saved your husband after the Conclave, it would have been Solas.
> 
> Sene: Who’s Solas?
> 
> Revasan: [slightly more offended now] Solas didn’t save me. Cass, shit. Nobody fucking saved me. Tell them.
> 
> Rasha: [waving him off] He is arrogant.
> 
> Sene: No shit.
> 
> Revasan: I beg your pardon?
> 
> Sene: [rolls her eyes]
> 
> Cassandra: [to Sene] Solas is an apostate.
> 
> Revasan: He is an apostate who did _not_ save me.
> 
> Sene: An apostate?
> 
> Cassandra: A mage with no Circle affiliation. The title is not nearly as grim as it seems, especially now.
> 
> Sene: It doesn’t sound grim. [eyes brighten] So he does magic?
> 
> Cassandra: Um, yes.
> 
> Revasan: Fucking weird magic, if you ask me.
> 
> Sene: What kind?
> 
> Revasan: [antsy] I just—hold on. No. This is all bullshit. [to Rasha] I’m not a Chantry boy, Rash. Nobody saved me. I saved myself. You remember that. [looks at Cullen] No offense.
> 
> Cullen: None taken.
> 
> Rasha: [softening, kisses Rev on the chin, pets his hair] Ara vhenan.
> 
> _*Some time passes. Josie, smitten, has offered to bring them all tea. Cullen stands by, awkwardly with his elbow resting on the hilt of his sword. Cassandra approaches Sene, who seems eager.*_
> 
> Cassandra: So, Sene. I hear you are an excellent huntress.
> 
> Sene: [tucks the hair behind her ears] Yep. [leans in, like a secret] Hey, is there a bar in Haven? Also, where can I find that _apostate_?
> 
> Cassandra: [once again uncertain as to exactly what she’s gotten herself into, sighs] Come with me. I’ll introduce you to Sera. She’ll give you the grand tour.
> 
> Sene: Who’s Sera?
> 
> Cassandra: Another elf, and a huntress like you. I believe the two of you will be fast friends.
> 
> Sene: [smiles big] Neat.

 

_Wake up, Chuckles. - Haven, cont’d (The Singing Maiden)_

> _*That night, at the tavern, Solas and Varric sit across from one another. The room is loud and filled with boisterous activity. In the wake of their success at Redcliffe Castle, celebration cannot be contained.*_
> 
> Solas: [nursing a glass of bourbon] Deal the cards.
> 
> Varric: Hold your horses, Chuckles. [shifts in the booth] I’m a little drunk, and the air in here is dry. Have you noticed?
> 
> Solas: No.
> 
> _*A girl walks in then. She is tall. She has very red hair in a fat braid down her back. She’s with Sera. This is new.*_
> 
> Varric: [searching his pockets] Well, shit. I know the deck’s around here somewhere.
> 
> Solas: [focused on the new girl] Varric.
> 
> Varric: Yeah?
> 
> Solas: Who is that?
> 
> Varric: [pauses, sips his beer, looks up] Who is what?
> 
> Solas: The redhead who just walked in, with Sera.
> 
> Varric: [glances over his shoulder, smirks] Oh. Right. That’s the boss’s daughter.
> 
> Solas: Who?
> 
> Varric: Sene Lavellan. [starts laughing] Revasan’s daughter. She and Rasha arrived this afternoon. Didn’t you hear?
> 
> Solas: I did not.
> 
> Varric: Well, you were napping.
> 
> Solas: [gives him a look]
> 
> Varric: You know what I mean.
> 
> Solas: [drinks]
> 
> Varric: [locates the card] Ah, thank the fucking Maker. [shuffles the deck]
> 
> Solas: This whiskey is watered down.
> 
> Varric: [glances up] You look a little shook, Chuckles.
> 
> Solas: Excuse me?
> 
> Varric: You gonna be okay?
> 
> Solas: She is...taller than I would have expected.
> 
> Varric: Who, Sene?
> 
> Solas: [takes a long, clean sip] Yes.
> 
> Varric: Because Revasan is such a short, dainty elven man?
> 
> Solas: No. Because women are not typically that tall.
> 
> Varric: Well, the Lavellans are hardly typical.
> 
> Solas: [finishes his glass, gestures for the barmaid] Clearly. [squares him up] Are those the cards?
> 
> Varric: [very knowing] Yes. [studies him] You seem like you’re in need of a distraction. You want me to call her over here? Give you a proper introduction? It hardly matters, of course. I’m sure Sera will be over, badgering me for quarters any minute. You can meet her then.
> 
> Solas: [ignores him] Deal the cards, Varric.
> 
> Varric: [smirks] Whatever you say, Chuckles.

 

_The Redhead - Haven, cont’d (The Singing Maiden)_

> _Thirty minutes later, Sera spots them from across the bar.  
>  _
> 
> Sera: Right! Shit, you. Didn’t see you blokes till just now. Sit up straight, okay? Yeah, both of you. This is Sene. She’s the elven man’s daughter.
> 
> Sene: [waves] Hey.
> 
> Varric: [nods] Last time I saw you you were nowhere near this tall.
> 
> Sene: [blushes, shrugs] I grew.
> 
> Solas: [chewing on a toothpick, holds out his hand] I am Solas.
> 
> Sene: [excited, shakes his hand, and pushes into the booth across from him] You’re the apostate?
> 
> Solas: [studies her] ...yes.
> 
> Sene: You do magic?
> 
> Sera: Pfffft.
> 
> Sene: Sera, sit down. [to Solas] You do magic?
> 
> Solas: [nods once] Yes, again.
> 
> Sera: [rolls her eyes, sits next to Solas, a chivalrous man—he gives her plenty of space] Solas’s magic is weird.
> 
> Solas: It’s _weird?_
> 
> Varric: Isn’t all magic weird, Buttercup?
> 
> Sera: Hush, you.
> 
> Solas: Not all of my magic is weird, Sera.
> 
> Sera: Then what is it?
> 
> Sene: Show us something. [leans forward in her seat, her hands folded on the table in front of her] Something _not weird._
> 
> _Solas, hesitant but intrigued, thinks about it, smirks, and then snaps his fingers. A small golden butterfly appears in the air, glowing and flapping its wings._
> 
> Sene: [eyes wide, smiles] Holy shit.
> 
> Varric: That’s nice, Chuckles. [drinks] You should do that more often. Makes you seem less…weird.
> 
> Solas: [tames the butterfly to his knuckles] I’ll admit it has been a while.
> 
> Sera: Pffffft.
> 
> Solas: [raises his eyebrows] You don’t like it?
> 
> Sene: [claps—she’s seen very little magic in her life] We like it. [looks at him, like a whip] A lot. Do it again.
> 
> Solas: [lost in the red hair and how it sort of tucks back, perfectly behind her ears] All right.

 

_Back to Business...sorta. - Haven, cont’d_

> _*Meanwhile, in the War Room. Rasha is exchanging natural skin care tips with Josie while Cullen and Cassandra discuss the latest bullshit with Rev.*_
> 
> Cullen: I am aware that our main priority is closing the Breach, Revasan, but perhaps it would be prudent to give the mages a moment to…adjust. There are still some tensions in the troops that could use smoothing out. Plus, there is the matter of the Avaar and the missing soldiers in the south.
> 
> Revasan: [smoking] Come again?
> 
> Cassandra: A small patrol of Inquisition soldiers has gone missing in Southern Ferelden. A bog called the Fallow Mire.
> 
> Revasan: A bog? Called the Fallow Mire? Oh boy. That sounds pleasant.
> 
> Cassandra: Trust me, it’s not.
> 
> Cullen: It’s about four days on horseback. Three if you hustle.
> 
> Revasan: Our men are missing? Do we know why?
> 
> Cassandra: [places a finger on the map] Leliana already has scouts in the area. They will know more about what’s going on once we get there.
> 
> Revasan: [sighs, puts out the joint] Well, I’m not going to leave good men to rot in a bog. The Breach will have to wait. How soon can we leave?
> 
> Cullen: As soon as tomorrow morning.
> 
> Revasan: Very good. Put the bells on. I’ll tell the others. [clasps Cullen on the shoulder] Now. Do you have any idea where my daughter went?
> 
> Cullen: [nervous] I—what? No, sir.
> 
> Revasan: Keep your pants on, Commander Cullen. This is not an interrogation.
> 
> Cassandra: She is with Sera. [sighs] I assume they’re at the tavern.
> 
> Revasan: [takes a deep breath] Good. I could use a drink. [calls over his shoulder] Rash, you want wine?
> 
> Rasha: [looks up from her discussion, like a secret] A bit of brandy sounds good.
> 
> Josie: I could not agree more.
> 
> Revasan: Then it’s a party! [renews his grip on Cullen’s shoulder] Come on, everyone. Let’s hit the pub.

 

_Lavellan Family Values - Haven, cont’d_

> _*Lavellan family breakfast the next morning, in Revasan’s quarters. The spread is lovely. The red sun is coming through the clean windows. The room is warm from the fire.*_
> 
> Sene: [her red head drooping] I need more coffee.
> 
> Revasan: [smoking— _tobacco—_ gives her a look and passes her the carafe] Too much rosé last night, vhenan?
> 
> Sene: [refills her glass and rolls her eyes]
> 
> Rasha: [has not touched her food, has been stirring her coffee compulsively for several straight minutes] Where exactly are you going today, Revasan.
> 
> Revasan: A place called the Fallow Mire. It’s a bog. I hear they’re having terrible weather. Please do not worry.
> 
> Sene: Are you sure I can’t come? To the bog? I’ve never been to a bog.
> 
> Revasan: I am absolutely sure. [puts out his cigarette in a crystal ashtray] You are not a member of the Inquisition, Sene. You are a guest here. A ward.
> 
> Sene: I am nobody’s ward. [bites off a huge mouthful of bread]
> 
> Revasan: Well, either way, you’re not coming.
> 
> Sene: Josie said I might be needed soon.
> 
> Revasan: Come again?
> 
> Sene: Me and mom. Like Dalish spokespeople, or something. If I’m going to be working for the Inquisition, probably that means I’m in it. And I’m much better with a bow than I am with talking. [she smiles, sarcastic] Sort of like you, only with you, instead of a bow, it’s swords and drugs.
> 
> Revasan: [squeezes his eyes shut, shakes out his head] How is it that you manage to give me headaches so quickly, and this early in the morning, Isene?
> 
> Sene: It’s a gift. I got it from you.
> 
> Rasha: [sighs] I hope you’ll be careful, vhenan. I am so sick of worrying. I’ve bitten off all my fingernails.
> 
> Revasan: [squeezes her hand on the table] I will.
> 
> Rasha: [still worries]
> 
> _*They go about their breakfast. After they finish, it’s just coffee and a bit of rum.*  
>  _
> 
> Revasan: [after a while, is smoking again and whittling something out of wood with a pocket knife] Oh, Sene.
> 
> Sene: Yeah?
> 
> Revasan: I meant to ask you.
> 
> Sene: Ask me what?
> 
> Rasha: [sighs like she knows what’s coming]
> 
> Revasan: Was that Solas I saw you talking to last night?
> 
> Sene: [raises her eyebrows] Um, yes.
> 
> Revasan: Was he doing magic?
> 
> Sene: [nods] Butterflies. He’s very good.
> 
> Revasan: [takes a deep breath] Do you like him?
> 
> Sene: [rolls her eyes again, harder this time] Very fucking subtle, dad.
> 
> Revasan: I’m only wondering. [glances up at Rasha over the top of his work] Didn’t it look like they were having a good time?
> 
> Rasha: [staring out the window, uncaring] Yes, it did. [looks back at Rev] He’s an elegant man, your Solas. Stoic, but elegant. I like him. He’s tall, too. Taller than you, Rev.
> 
> Revasan: But not stronger.
> 
> Sene: We’re just friends. [has shredded an entire loaf of bread into little pieces and arranged them from biggest to smallest on the tablecloth in front of her] He’s nice.
> 
> Revasan: [whittling and smoking away] Hmm.

 

_8 Simple Rules for Not Getting Killed in a Fucking Bog - The Fallow Mire_

> _*A few days later, in the Fallow Mire. It’s raining and terrible.*_
> 
> Revasan: [scuffing his boots into the mud] This place can bite my ass. I didn’t even think Avaar were real.
> 
> Cassandra: But you’ve heard of them.
> 
> Revasan: Yeah. From books about crazed cultists and mountainmen lunatics. I assumed they were like, extinct.
> 
> Cassandra: [spits into a puddle] Well, they are not.
> 
> Scout Harding: You’d do well to be careful, sir. Their leader wants your head on a platter.
> 
> Solas: [adjusting his gloves] I’m not surprised. They probably think you’re some sort of god, after the Conclave.
> 
> Revasan: [annoyed—he can’t keep his cigarettes lit] You’re probably right. [looks around] Where the fuck is Sera?
> 
> Solas: [leaning against his staff] She’s up that tree over there.
> 
> _*They all turn to see.*_
> 
> Revasan: Sera! Get you ass down here.
> 
> Sera: [mumbling loudly in the treetops] Crikey fuck. This shit is weird!
> 
> Revasan: Come down. You’ll be fine. It’s just rain so far.
> 
> Sera: [is yelling] Not yet, elven man! Not yet. This shit bites. You should have let Sene come with. Then at least I wouldn’t be alone.
> 
> Solas: [yells back] You’re not alone. We’re all here with you, Sera.
> 
> Sera: Eat my entire ass, elven man number two. [sticks her tongue out]
> 
> Revasan: [sighs]
> 
> Solas: [smirks] Did she ask you, about coming? [studying the tip of his staff] Sene, I mean? She mentioned her interest at the tavern the night before we left. It was a pleasure to meet her, and your wife of course. They look so much alike.
> 
> Revasan: That they do. [studies him, desperately intrigued] And she did ask, about coming. But she is not a warrior, Solas. She is not a member of the Inquisition.
> 
> Solas: [nods once] That is true.
> 
> _*Cassandra splits off, disinterested, goes about questioning Scout Harding. Sera is still up in that tree.*  
>  _
> 
> Revasan: [lowers his voice all of a sudden] Solas.
> 
> Solas: Yes?
> 
> Revasan: Forgive my prying.
> 
> Solas: [gives him a look] Go on.
> 
> Revasan: Was that a magical butterfly I saw you make for my daughter the other night at the tavern?
> 
> Solas: [brow furrows, straightens up] Sene?
> 
> Revasan: Yes.
> 
> Solas: It was. She asked to see a bit of magic. It was small.
> 
> Revasan: [gives him a long look, has a dampened spliff hitched to the corner of his mouth like a safety smoke] How many butterflies did you make for her over the course of the evening? Two? Three?
> 
> Solas: Probably more like seven.
> 
> Revasan: [raises his eyebrows, places the spliff behind his ear] Wow.
> 
> Solas: Is there a problem?
> 
> Revasan: Of course not.
> 
> Solas: Then why do you look like that?
> 
> Revasan: Like what?
> 
> Solas: Like the large vein in your forehead is about to explode?
> 
> Revasan: [sighs, scratches compulsively at his wet, curly hair—he hasn’t had a real smoke in several hours] I’ve just never once seen you make a butterfly before last night. Do you like my daughter, Solas?
> 
> Solas: Excuse me?
> 
> Revasan: It’s a simple question. Do you like my daughter?
> 
> Solas: I only just met your daughter.
> 
> Revasan: That means nothing.
> 
> Solas: Does it?
> 
> Revasan: The butterflies seemed compulsory, prerequisite to courtship.
> 
> Solas: [drops his head back, squeezes his eyes shut against the rain] That is old-fashioned. Even for me.
> 
> Revasan: I beg your pardon?
> 
> Solas: [snaps right back] Nothing. The butterflies are an old trick, Revasan. And you are right, they are, to some extent…compulsory. Perhaps compul _sive_ is the better word. Granted I only just figured that out this very moment.
> 
> Revasan: What are you saying to me, Solas? What kind of _old trick_?
> 
> Solas: [clears his throat, realizes his mistake, squares up with Revasan in the rain] It wasn’t like that.
> 
> Revasan: Like what.
> 
> Solas: Perhaps…nevermind. I enjoyed spending time with Sene. I will not lie to you about that. But there is nothing else to it. Not now. Not yet. We’re just friends.
> 
> Revasan: Not _yet_?
> 
> Solas: [sighs] Rev, this is a bog.
> 
> Revasan: And?
> 
> Solas: And I think I see several zombies coming our way. Can we do this later?
> 
> Revasan: [easily distracted, totally itchy] Zombies? Where?
> 
> Solas: Right up there.
> 
> Revasan: [squints into the distance—sure enough] Ah, fuck. Are those _actual_ zombies? They look like men. Then again, I’m hungover.
> 
> Cassandra: [by his side now] No, they are zombies. [disgusted noise] Rank creatures. [draws her sword] Let’s kill them all immediately.
> 
> Revasan: Good thinking. [turns to Solas] We are not done.
> 
> Solas: [is already glowing green, basically, ready to mind blast some undeads as the thunder shrieks overhead] Fine.
> 
> Sera: [afraid, has come down from tree and is standing beside them, nocking three arrows in her bow at once] Don’t like zombies.
> 
> Revasan: Me neither.
> 
> Sera: Shit. Want to go back up a tree. When something dies, it should _stay dead._
> 
> Revasan: [sword at the ready] Yes, well that would be wishful thinking, Sera.
> 
> Scout Harding: [laughs to herself as she backs away slowly] Yeah. This place is haunted as shit. [waves happily] Gotta get back to my post. Good luck, everyone!
> 
> _*Harding out.*_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all of my tumblr readers who have followed me here! The response to Rev was stronger than I ever could have imagined. I'll try not to let you down. <3 -gala


End file.
